


Washed Away

by Haishe



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haishe/pseuds/Haishe
Summary: You wish for the sea to wash away your sins but what is to be washed away when there is nothing but sin.





	Washed Away

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is reaper (again), a really direct look into a bitter and resentful, self-hating reaper. I really hope you guys like it and if you do I might actually continue the story and write more. Please tell me if you are interested in a continuation. All your feedback and support is much appreciated! A pretty clear suicide attempt so please stay clear if that is something you would like to avoid.

Some days would be easier, Reaper/Kaneki/Haise (Because who could even keep up with the names he had amassed at this point, like some foppish old school royalty with as many titles as servants) would wake up, make himself a cup of coffee, get dressed and head out to work.

He’d sit through the frankly unnecessary barrage of meetings with his fellow officers and listen to the asinine and animated monologues of his partner, Furuta, with a resigned disdain and plastered on smile. At times, he would nod along to his banalities and only slightly wincing every time he found himself wanting to punch him. Then he’d head out - another mission here, a pitched battle to the death there - as corpses, blood and broken quinques littered his path. These were common occurrences in whatever places were unlucky enough to have summoned his particular ‘talents’.

Those were the days where he’d be too tired to think straight; he’d come back home and fall flat on his bed. His mind only being able to perform a tenth of its usual mental gymnastics as his body was not responsive enough to even get up to clean his wounds.

On other days, however, it wasn’t only his wounds that he would let fester. Picking his own body off the bed would be harder than any number of corpses he’d sling around on a good day. The coffee he’d make would taste of nothing, his tongue yearning for any kind of sensation other than the unbridled heat that emanated from the drink, maybe it had something to do with how needlessly hot he made it on those days, once even singeing himself in the process.

Listening to Furuta prattle on and on about things that would interest him in the least would make him want to do nothing more than to eat the sick fuck, only to be stopped by the realization that he would taste pretty shit.

But the worst parts about those days would be the inevitable nights.

During the entire day Kaneki's eyes would keep falling to his watch; a nifty little thing, with a pristine silver bream and black dial, simple and elegant, a real contrast to its wearer in more ways than one. It was a gift from Arima of all people, who was more than a little exacerbated with Kaneki’s, free-flowing and loose relationship with the concept of meetings and punctuality.

Every time he would see it, though, he'd do mental math,12 more hours of staying awake, 9 more, 5 more, 2 more, and that was really the only solace he could find in his days.

It was almost as if time was the greatest foe he had ever faced, and yet all the while he hadn’t really faced it at all. The hours would only move achingly slowly, like some thick, viscous sap on the floor. There were moments where it seemed as though he could make out the passing of every second. The world around him a dizzying array of sights and sounds, his mind would always wind up fixated on different things, sometimes the ticking on his watch, the minute changes in everyone's breathing around him or the whirring of the quinque sharpening device laid on every floor.

At the same time,it felt as though he was moving about at par with a snail strapped to a comically large boulder, while everyone else was moving at supersonic speeds. Coming in and having conversations that would pass by before he would even register the first few words of it.

Once, Suzuya came in to ask for some advice regarding a case (and to get some sweets that Kaneki kept in his pockets even now, though they were no longer handmade) and Kaneki was only able to focus on the moment after Suzuya had already solved the case while talking out loud and emptying his pockets. That was the CCG’s finest for you, still prone to childish pickpockets.

But the nights, oh, the much-maligned nights. It would be there where his mind would be better described as a cocktail of self-pity, moral decrepitude, a little masochistic self-flagellation and a writer's imagination to boot.

On the bad nights, his mind would work out like a doped up gold medalist Olympian who had a point to prove after a decidedly well-done speech from their coach. The gymnastics and leaps his fucked up little head would perform would be a thing of beauty. If by beauty one meant, mildly entertaining until it became sad and almost mundane.

And that’s when he realised,

You might be able to wash away the sins of your past. But there was always a thought that would hover somewhere in the ether; there was so much to wash away that he was certain that any water that would come in contact with it would just end up becoming dirty and rotten. The thought was both comforting and horrifying, causing Ken to clench his fists in an attempt to take a grip of reality, to know that all hope for improvement was lost was liberating, yes. Liberating and almost cathartic to know that you’re stuck at the bottom of a damp, dark pit and there’s no way. But it also meant that he was stuck in a hell of his own making and really what more could he have asked for with the shit he’d pulled, the people he hurt and the lives he’d ruined?

It was on one of these bad days when Kaneki was close to getting what he had wanted for longer than even he was sure he wanted it. He had just finished a mission where he had the almost comical misfortune of working right outside the doors of :re. Hacking and dicing a violent and dangerous, bloodlusting ghoul mere inches outside the doors of the shop he could no longer go to. It was out of his hands, like most things it seemed.

The moment the ghoul’s final screams began to die out, Kaneki turned to the shop to see Yomo and Nishiki looking out from the window, their eyes transfixed on the mass of limbs of viscera that was strewn all around the street. And Before Kaneki could even part his lips, however, they pulled down the blinds and changed the shop’s sign to closed.

It was only fair, after all, who would like to associate themselves with someone who took such pride in his monstrous work. Kaneki threw the head that was stuck atop his quinque to the side and called a cleanup crew on the spot.

Their faces stuck with him the entire day. It was the way their eyes were wide with horror that shook him, something noteworthy after the lives both men had lived to actually be physically reactant to the horrors he was committing. Their gazes, stern, disgusted and most of all judging, he could even make out the disappointed hue in their eyes. He could see the way they both exchanged a glance almost as if to agree that he was no longer the man they had once met, which was true enough, he was never the man they had once met.

After getting back to the office Kaneki was greeted with praise and adoration for, slaying a ghoul that had been the bane of other squads for weeks. It was done with such brutality and force that it didn't phase them that Kaneki would be getting the credit for this. During all of it all he could do was think about how much he kept fucking up, showing people the sides of him that he was certain they wouldn't want to see, certain that they had no place seeing-

“Good job, Inspector Special Class” Furuta interrupted with his peppy tone and half-hearted grin.

“That was some fine work today, we pulled some street cam footage and my oh my, you made excellent work of that miscreant. Furuta inundated him with unwanted praise, eyes mischievous.

“Thanks,” Ken said dryly, “all in a day’s work.”

“I wouldn't necessarily say that, Special Class.” Furuta replied, a devlish smirk on his face.

“Oh, then what would you say? After All, isn't it our jobs to keep these streets safe from the ghoul menace.” Kaneki's questioned in a very matter of fact way. Of course, it was their fucking jobs, what was this shit head getting at?

“The way you cut the poor thing open, the way blood was flowing everywhere, guts and organs mashed up and thrown around like confetti,” Furuta placed his hand on Kaneki’s shoulder, leaning in, “almost made me feel sorry for the poor bastard, it deserved to die but not that badly.”

Kaneki locked eyes with Furuta, a stern smile forming on his face.

“Some deserve quick deaths, others do not, and I am more than certain that ‘poor bastard’ deserved more than I was able to dole out.” His tone came out harsher than he had wanted. It really was moot to discuss brutality at this point, all the ghouls he’d seek out were destined to die might as well show them the consequences of acting the way they did.

“My, my, Special Class,” Furuta patted him on the back, “quite serious aren't we? Talking in such a grim manner, maybe it would be best for you to take an early day off, you’ve done more than enough work.”

Oh, goodie, a day off. Just want the doctor he should be seeing but wasn't ordered.

Kaneki sighed, “Maybe I do.” Would be best to get some rest after that, his eyes turned to his watch, 10 hours till sleep, his heart, if he even had that at this point, sank at the possibility of spending that long with his thoughts.

He collected his things and made his way to the car. It was only 1:15 PM, and he wasn't used to leaving work till at least 9 PM. He made sure to take the longest way home as the thought of this cold, lifeless room filled him with more dread than was appropriate.

This was really just a side effect of the mental state he was in, he hadn’t realised, the fact that in his state, people aren't sure what to do with themselves when they don't have anything to do when they don't have something forced on them or some obligatory duty.

Most people would go to a movie, a fancy lunch, the beach or just relax at home. But Kaneki couldn't really remember the last time he was really...relaxed. He couldn’t recall When his mind wasn't filled with more demons than one of those b movies he used to watch with Touka…

Touka…

His grip tightened around the steering wheel as he clenched his jaws. His eyes focusing unwaveringly at the road ahead, almost in an attempt to distance himself from his latest stupidity.

Fuck! Kaneki dreaded, grinding his teeth and shutting his eyes.

What a fucking idiot! He hadn't thought about her in so long, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't think about her when the loneliness would corrode his very skin and leave him wanting for the touch of someone who cared. He didn't think about her when he wanted someone to tell him that all of this wasn't his doing, he didn't even think of her at the shop today. But now?! He had thought of her now of all time?

His grip kept tightening on the steering wheel until he could feel it’s edges digging into his palms. Without even knowing it his foot was forcing itself down on the pedal, his speed increasing as his mind was bombarded and perplexed at his own lack of intelligence and sanity.

And now, just to put the cherry on the sundae of human guts he had served himself, he couldn't get her image out of his head, the way she would get terrified of those movies and he’d try in vain to cozy up to her only for her to nestle against him instead. Her adorable smile as she slept next to him, making his heart race and his mind peaceful knowing that she was by his side, safe, and maybe even for a brief moment happy. What he wouldn't give to see that smile just one more time.

With a heavy screen and a loud break, the car came to a thundering halt his breath hitched as he felt his arms bump against his chest and his entire body jerk against the force of the stop, lucky he was so far out of the city that there was no traffic that could cause an accident. He couldn't allow himself to think like that, - to allow that glimmer, that delusional iota of hope to enter his heart, not again.

Kaneki stumbled his way out of his car and onto the pavement, falling over for a moment as he allowed the emotions to wash over him. Sometimes it was just best to ride this shit out like a humongous wave and hope you would make it, or if he were being honest, nevermind.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

He derided himself, how could be so fucking stupid! Kaneki held his hair and pulled at the roots, his nails scraping against the base of his head as he kept thinking how he could fuck up like this. It was always the silly little moments that undid him, the innocuous moments that never seemed important that would always come back to remind him how good he could have had it if only he could get his shit together.

Now, thoroughly encased in the sobering blanket of nostalgic reflection Kaneki was reminded of a trip the entire crew at Anteiku took to a beach not to far from where he was now. Everyone was absolutely ecstatic to get a day off work, Nishiki and Roma deciding to put on a volleyball tournament if only Touka wouldn't have hidden away their ball, Kuzen and Yomo were glad to see everyone so happy and relaxed just kept to himself. Kaneki brought a novel with him during that time, something he had been really into at the moment, not enough that he'd remember it now though.

“Hey, shithead!” Touka called out from the water.

“Aren’t ya gonna join us? Fucking, nerd.” She always loved to make fun of his reading, granted he had a habit of calling attention to it as well.

“Ah, you guys go on ahead without me, I’m fine.” Kaneki managed with a chuckle, his eye closing as he let out a smile and returned to his book only to be rudely and rather thankfully disturbed when Touka splashed an entire pale of water into his face.

“Were at the beach, not the library. You're gonna have more than enough time to read that when we go back, just come on now.” She took him by the hand and lead him to the water. Kaneki, flustered and blushing at her touch, was unable to even respond until he felt the first few splashes of the cold water against his ankles. It felt, nice, even nicer than he'd have imagined. Really, anything could be nicer when it was her, he thought.

Touka teasingly smacked his feet with her’s causing him to fall over into the water below which was already covering them to the top of their chests. She assumed that Kaneki would just tease her back or just whine like he usually did whenever they were having fun, but, instead, she was subject to a hauntingly still surface.

“Kaneki? Kaneki this isn't funny, you piece of shit.” Touka's voice betrayed her worry more than she'd like

“Guys!” She called out to the rest as they rushed overhearing her concerned tone. She flung herself into the water to retrieve the fucking idiot and smack him if this was some kind of shitty joke. But, oh how they wished it was a joke.

That day had been a sweet, lovely day. One that Kaneki could easily call one of his finest, until the moment he fell into the sea. Water surrounded him from all sides, his nostrils and throat jammed with salty, heavy liquid., his arms and legs flailed around hopelessly until he saw it. The painful bliss of it, the feeling of being taken as such. His body at the mercy of something far greater than his being, his mind ready to accept the circumstances that fate laid before him. Drowning wasn't a pleasant experience in the slightest - but it was the kind of experience he yearned deep in his heart, even back in those days.

To be so utterly powerless and be made to suffer because of it, to be consumed and taken - that was what he wanted, what he longed for.

When he opened his eyes, he was already on the shore, surrounded by the worried faces of the people of Anteiku. Yomo by his side checking his pulse, his eyes were heavy but he could see the outline of Nishiki’s hands atop of chest. he could even faintly hear Kuzen in the background calling in for some assistance. His head fell to the side and from the corner of his eye he could make out Touka, standing there, staring. Her eyes filled with...concern? For him? How quaint, Kaneki mused as he lay on the rough gravelly road, why would she have any sort of concern for the likes of him? And even if she did then, now there certainly was none.

Kaneki snapped back to his senses and picked himself up from the road to got back into the car.

He knew what he wanted to do today, to see if it really felt better to be washed away by the currents, giving in to something far greater than himself. Kaneki drove the few miles from his current location to the beach, and found out that it was virtually empty save for some families and teenagers that were far from this location.

He walked along the side of the beach for quite some time, reminiscing just a little more, another way of hurting himself at this point, really. And it wasn't as if he wasn't aware either. To think about things untenable and lost is just another avenue to wallow his weakness,. 

After all he was the one who lost them.

The feeling of the breezy, sandy air in his face as his feet sank into the sand every time he'd take a step, oh, how he wanted to just sink into the sand himself, he wanted it to just take him in one quick motion, consuming him with ease. He stared into the ocean, his eyes transfixed on the horizon and how utterly gorgeous it looked. One step followed another as he made his way into the deeper reaches of the great beyond, the water first covering his ankles, then his knees and finally his entire wait until it reached the height of his mouth.

His heart raced at the thought of how easy all of this could be, in the moment he'd allow himself to be at the mercy of an uncaring force that would wash him away so easily.

Kaneki leaned back into the water, not spilling, not failing, a controlled descent to his end. He kept his mouth open and his nostril agape, flaring almost, he wanted this. Water began rushing into him, his airways filled with it almost instantly. it pushed up against his passages, as his hands began clawing at his neck begging for it to be over.

It was far more painful than he remembered, devoid of air, the water a little dark but not completely. He was still able to make out his surrounding, his barren and lonely surroundings - seems not all things change. For a man hell-bent on dying he was flailing more than a baby getting a shot. His nails clawing at his neck and his eyes filled with tears as he gasped for breath.

He wanted this, he needed this.

He tried to shut his eyes forcefully, trying to be dignified in his final moments. He forced himself steady, his limbs aching under the pressure of the liquid surrounding him like some unfeeling amorphous mass. And then, for a moment there was stillness.

No shaking, or pleading his body a completely motionless mass. This is what he wanted, after all, wasn't it? His mind was already clouding, his ability to think and process what was happening around him muddled, this was alright, he tried to convince himself.

To be taken like this, to submit to the waters that would throw him deep into an abyss where he would not be found. No tacky funerals, no half-hearted goodbyes, just peace, stillness, blankness.

But, as if his mind couldn't even give him the courtesy of a peaceful if somewhat dramatic end, the memory from earlier came back to him. What happened after everyone had left him be when he almost drowned all those years ago was suddenly vivid inside his mind.

Touka came and sat down next to him, unprompted. Her eyes fixed on the ocean and her tone steady as she began to speak,

“Never, pull something like that ever again. You understand?” Her words were painfully direct, trying to hide her worry. There was a commanding tone in her voice, but thinking back at it, was it really a command or a plea?

“I’m sorr-...”

“Don’t be, just tell me you'll learn how to fucking swim.” Touka punched him playfully as she tried not to meet his gaze.

For all these years he had tried not to think about what those eyes of her’s hid. But, whether it be delusion or just reality being kinder than usual, her eyes hid nothing. They were always apparent.

All she wanted was for him to stay, to be there, to not go away.

He couldn’t…

This was all so perfect…

And just like that, a fist punched straight from the water causing waves to erupt from its force. He couldn't do this, not to her, not again. The water moved swiftly around the fist that was now protruding above its surface, Kaneki s head bobbed from water, gasping for breath as he tried to scream for help. He started flailing his arms and legs before regaining some of his motor functions and swimming to shore.

As he lay there on the beach, all by his lonesome he chucked to himself.

This was always what happened. He’d make the choice, sure that this time it would go how he’d planned. He would be confident that nothing was really holding him back to this cruel world anymore only to be hanging on to a million tiny threads that he couldn't imagine letting go of. It wasn't the thought of his demise that frightened him, that was all too comforting in the state his life was in, but the thought of all the memories he’d made fading away. He didn’t want to let go Of the few people in his life that he had loved, he wouldn't allow them to be swept along the current so easily.

Kaneki picked himself up from the sandy shores and pulled himself to the car. His body still aching from the force of what had just transpired. He started driving, knowing there was so much that he had fucked up and so much more that he still would fuck up.

But he wouldn't stop himself now. He had to know, he had to be certain.

The journey to the cafe was a brisk one, such that he didn't even realise that he had arrived at his destination until he saw a large man looking much like a bruiser from some gang cleaning the outside of a little shop. Kaneki parked his car along the side of the road and steadied himself.

His life was a series of fuck-ups and mistakes. This would either be yet another one to add to the list or, maybe, just maybe, it could be something… different.

He collected himself as he took a heavy, sustained breath and got out of the car. Maybe just once, one of those bad days didn’t have to lead to a bad night.

A smile on his face, he put his hands in his coat, musing to himself,

What's the worst that could happen? As he entered the faithful cafe once more.


End file.
